


all dolled up in straps

by napricot



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fix-It, Porn Without Plot, lasso porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napricot/pseuds/napricot
Summary: When both her greaves and sandals were off, Steve stayed on his knees. Before she could pull him up to kiss him in thanks, he leaned his bristly cheek against her thigh and looked up at her. And oh, Diana had never, ever forgotten the sweet, pure ocean blue of his eyes. Steve was breathing a little hard now, and he slid a hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where her lasso hung. He wrapped a loop of it around his wrist.“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you could do to me with this.”





	all dolled up in straps

**Author's Note:**

> FOR #12
> 
> Title from The National song of the same name.

There was not a day that went by that Diana didn’t thank the gods for the gift of Steve Trevor’s life. To have him here with her, in Paris, one hundred years after his death—that was a miracle she hadn’t even known how to ask for. And to see Steve’s joy and wonder in the future—that too, was a gift beyond price. The shadows and darkness she had grown too accustomed to seeing dissolved under the force of Steve’s curiosity and near-manic joy.

When he was returned to her, Diana had tried to return Steve’s watch to him. She had worn it often, in the first few years after his death, but then she had worried about breaking it or losing it in some battle, and eventually its ticking had ceased to be a comfort. It became instead a reminder of the seconds that carried her ceaselessly beyond the reach of every limited, beloved mortal life. So she had tucked it away, among the other treasured memories of the bright and brief flames of the mortal lives that lit Diana’s way through a world darker than she had ever expected.

 _Keep it_ , Steve told her, wrapping her hands around it just as he had before getting on that ill-fated plane. And then, pressing kisses to her knuckles, he said, _Wear it, please_. So she did. It still worked, once Steve tinkered with it a little. And now every implacable tick was a reminder that their prayers had been granted, they had been given more time, and every arcing sweep of the hour hand brought them closer to new joys and new experiences, new chances to fulfill every wistful and desperate wish for each other.

Some of those wishes were simple things: lazy mornings in and breakfast in bed, more kisses, a proper dance, seeing Paris. Easy, sweet ways to fill the expanse of time stretching out before them. Some of their wishes, though, were something else entirely.

 

* * *

A few months after Steve was returned to her, Diana went to battle against Luthor’s latest monstrosity. Steve sent her off with a kiss to the cheek and a cheerful wave, and through the marvels of modern technology, stayed on comms with her throughout the fight. He was helpful, offering her a bird’s eye view when she needed it, directing her towards civilians to save, and keeping her spirits light too. Her fellow heroes here were so often dour in battle. She had missed the ease of Steve’s wry bravado and total certainty.

When she returned to Paris, Steve greeted her with a bright smile that made his whole face crease up in joy.

“Only ten casualties, and they’re all in stable and good condition. You were amazing out there, Diana.”

“Thank you,” said Diana, and kissed him. “And thank you for your help.” She pulled away with a smile to begin taking her armor off. She’d washed off quickly to get the worst of the sea brine off, but she still felt the itch of salt water drying on her skin, and she was sure her hair was full of sand and who knew what else. Kelp, probably.

“Wait, let me,” murmured Steve, and Diana stopped, raised an eyebrow. “You swung an entire yacht at that sea monster. And you came out of the water like—”

“The Creature from the Black Lagoon?” The bay had really had quite a lot of seaweed.

“Huh?”

“I’ll show you later.”

“No, like—like, Aphrodite. Like Boticelli’s Venus, only with a sword. And then you tore that robot apart—” Steve’s voice was dreamy, rough, and his eyes were dark and wide, hungry. _Oh_ , thought Diana, and then Steve dropped to his knees and began carefully undoing the straps of her greaves and sandals. When he pulled the greaves free, he swept gentle hands along her calves, brushing away the grains of sand that remained. Diana suppressed a shiver.

When both her greaves and sandals were off, Steve stayed on his knees. Before she could pull him up to kiss him in thanks, he leaned his bristly cheek against her thigh and looked up at her. And oh, Diana had never, ever forgotten the sweet, pure ocean blue of his eyes. Steve was breathing a little hard now, and he slid a hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where her lasso hung. He wrapped a loop of it around his wrist.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you could do to me with this.”

Diana frowned. “I wouldn’t hurt you, or force you to tell me the truth, Steve—”

“In bed. I want—I need you to tie me up in bed. Please.” The lasso didn’t burn him. He was telling the truth. Diana wondered what other truths he could tell, in the midst of their passion, when he had to ask for exactly what he wanted.

“Alright,” she said, and freed the lasso from its holster. She wrapped it more securely around Steve’s wrist, enjoying the golden glow of it against Steve’s pale skin. Steve swallowed hard, swayed against her thigh. She pulled him up and led him to their bedroom.

 

* * *

Diana, truth be told, had never particularly considered the sexual possibilities of the lasso of truth. Oh, she knew people joked about it, and she’d heard her fair share of racy comments. But the thought hadn’t particularly interested her. Not until now, anyway. Now, Steve was laid out quite prettily on her bed, naked, the lasso wrapped around and across his chest and up to his wrists where it held him fast to their bed’s headboard. Diana settled herself over Steve’s hips and smiled down at him. He was already mostly hard, his cock flushing.

She was about to undo the clasps that held her bodice and skirt up, when Steve said, “No. Please. Leave them on.”

“Why?”

“I want you to fuck me in your armor.”

“Oh? Does the armor arouse you?”

“No—” he hissed as the lasso glowed brighter. “Or, yes, but—not because it’s skimpy or anything, just, you come off the field of battle, and you look so, so—and I want, I want, I want—”

“What, what do you want,” asked Diana, and ground down against Steve’s cock.

“This!” gasped Steve. “I want you to wreck me like you wreck a fucking battlefield. Is that fucked up? I feel like it might be fucked up.”

His hips jerked against her, but Diana squeezed her thighs on either side of his waist and held him still.

“Uh uh, not yet,” she said, and rose up and off of him for a moment to shimmy out of her underwear.

Steve groaned, and his eyes were hungry as he watched her toss it aside. She settled her bare cunt back over his lap and arranged herself to her satisfaction. She didn’t take him inside her, not yet. He whimpered a little as she studied him spread out before her, his fair skin flushed, his mouth red and open and inviting. The sight of him like this stirred something in her, something like the joy of battle. Yes, she could make a beautiful battlefield of Steve’s body, if that was what he wanted. She leaned up to kiss him, and it wasn’t sweet and desperate like their first time, it was devouring. When she pulled back, he was panting, and shaking a little from the effort of not rutting against her.

“What do you want that you couldn’t ask for without the lasso?”

“I told you—” he said, but the lasso flared and burned in warning, and he cried out.

“No, that’s not it. Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.” The lasso didn’t burn him much, so this was the truth, or part of it.

“Is that all? We have done that many times.”

“No, I mean—” he swallowed, tossed his head back. “So, that internet, so helpful, so much information.”

“Yeesss…”

“Also a really lot of pornography. Just, so much.”

Diana laughed. “Yes. Did you watch some?”

“I got curious, yeah. Just trying to learn more about this century, you know.”

“What did you see?” she asked, and watched with interest and Steve turned bright red. “Tell me and I’ll fuck you.”

“I, uh, there was a woman, and she had, um, a—” Steve gestured vaguely with his bound hands. “Strapped to her, you know.” Diana tilted her head, tried to decipher this. Steve made a somewhat more emphatic series of gestures. Strapped to—oh.

“A phallus?”

Steve nodded. “And she, you know, fucked the guy, and I—I want that,” Steve finished in a rush.

Diana smiled down at him. “There now, was that so hard? We can do that.” She kissed him as a reward, and slid down so the tip of his cock nudged against the folds of her cunt. She was plenty wet, her arousal a pleasant, heated throb. She wanted him inside her, but she could be patient, she could wait until the lasso pulled Steve’s truths from him. Steve moaned and jerked his hips upward, but she tightened her thighs in warning and held him still. “No. Tell me more, first.”

“Please,” he moaned, very prettily, but Diana wasn’t having it. “Okay, okay, I, uh—couldn’t stop thinking about it. You fucking me, in the, in the—”

“Ass?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Has no one ever done that for you before?”

“No.”

“That will be nice, being your first. You were my first man, you know.” Steve nodded. “So, tell me, did you think about it, when you touched yourself? Did you try it, putting something in your ass?”

“Yeah, yeah, I—god, it’s all I thought about when I jerked off.” Steve laughed, breathless. “You know, I almost looked around for something to use, I wanted it so bad, but I just tried with my, uh, fingers instead—”

“Did it feel good?”

He nodded drunkenly. “It wasn’t enough though, it felt so good, but it wasn’t enough, I wanted more, I wanted you to do it.” Steve was breathing even harder now, his bright and glassy eyes fixed on her.

“I can do that for you, darling.” She took hold of Steve’s cock and guided it inside her.

“Finally, thank you, oh my god,” he said, but she still held him fast so he couldn’t thrust up into her.

“We’re not done yet. Tell me, why couldn’t you just ask for this without the lasso?” She moved her hips with what she knew must be agonizing slowness for Steve, but which for her stretched out the feeling of satisfying fullness. “Were you embarrassed?”

“Yes—no—ouch, sort of, Diana, please, faster.” Diana brought her hands to his chest, and scratched her nails there a little warningly.

“Tell me.”

“I was kind of embarrassed, yeah, but more, um, ashamed?”

“Ashamed? Why?”

“Men aren’t supposed to—you know, want—”

Diana snorted. “Men. Pleasure is pleasure, Steve. Was that all? Some outdated gender roles?” She sped up a little, drove Steve’s cock into her harder, and he cried out.

“No,” he said breathlessly. “That’s not all.”

“What else, tell me, Steve—”

She looked down at him, and his cloudless eyes were stricken, desperate. “It scares me sometimes. How much I want—you. You to take me, take everything, I want—”

That hungry, battle and worship-ready part of her roared forth inside of her, and she took Steve inside of her viciously, ferociously, clenching around him and slamming into him. He made punched out, breathy little sounds with every thrust, panting hard as if he was running full speed, his hands clenching and unclenching where they were bound by the lasso. He came with a groaning sort of shout, spasming under her, but Diana didn’t stop. She brought her own fingers to her clit, and brought herself off as Steve moaned and shook under her. She didn’t want to let him go just yet.

“Alright?” she asked him.

He flopped his head to the side. “Uh huh,” he said dreamily. She kept moving her hips a little, enjoying the aftershock-like bumps against her clit with him still inside her. She didn’t stop until he softened inside her, murmuring, “please please please,” and then she pulled off of him, and leaned up to kiss him as she untied him.

“Next time, I’ll fuck you properly. We can go get the phallus for it together. They call them strap-ons now, you know.”

Steve blinked at her blearily. “Wait, together? I thought we could just—order it from the internet. Discreetly.”

Diana smiled at him, feeling mischievous and young. “Where’s the fun in that?”

 


End file.
